Beautiful Disaster
by ArabianHermione
Summary: Avada Kedavra!" Again he lay dead before her as she reached out to try to touch his face but ended up touching air...


**Beautiful Disaster**

_By: _

**H A T E R - O F - H E A R T L E S S - C R I T I C S**

Disclaimer: Don't own it...

**It had been a month…**

One month of quiet grieving, one month of persuading herself to forget and one month of isolating herself from the rest of the muggle world. Her room was her only refuge, even though the darkness hanging over it was like an ever present shadow. She had felt a wistful ache about the muggle places and objects she had longed to show him, to see his face scrunch up in interest and confusion at sight of what was ordinary for Muggles.

Her parents had sensed a change in her that no one else had, but they didn't dwell on the subject. Though she dismissed their questioning looks at first, she found their questions hard to ignore and finally answered saying it was because of her Headmaster's death. It seemed that it was a satisfying answer and Hermione found that she was a much better actress than she had known.

Hermione had scolded herself many times, commanding her heart to forget about it all. Though it seemed like the most sensible thing to do, she found herself unable to comply.

She sat on the stairs of Grimmauld Place, resting her head against the wall. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw _him_, lying dead with a blank expression on his face. His sad silver orbs seemed to cut her like a knife.

Kreacher, Sirius' elderly house-elf crept past her, hissing beneath his breath. The house-elf took absolutely no notice of the bookworm. Hunched over, he dragged his filthy feet slowly and clumsily towards the far end of the room, all the while muttering under his breath in a hoarse voice.

"Stains, of dishonor, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth, tainting my poor mistress' home," he muttered. "Oh, if she knew, if she knew the scum they've let into her house, what would she say to old Kreacher, oh, the shame of it, Mudbloods and werewolves and traitors and thieves, poor old Kreacher, what can he do?" he wailed to himself.

"Hello Kreacher," Hermione said pleasantly. He shuddered as he looked at her and pretended not to hear.

"The Mudblood, how dare she speak to Kreacher?! He muttered underneath his breath.

Hermione flinched at the name; less than one condition was she ever accepting of that phrase was when he called her that, and now that he was gone… she couldn't bear hearing that word.

Her fingertips touched her locket, the last thing he had given her. If it hadn't been for this locket, then Hermione would have convinced herself that it was all one long crazy dream; too good to be true.

She heard voices making her come crashing back to reality.

"Kreacher, put a sock in it already," Ron said heatedly as he walked into the room.

"Kreacher said nothing," said the elf, with a slight bow to Ron. Without hesitation he added in a clear undertone, "filthy little brat of a blood traitor. Red heads with the tempers to match."

"RON NO!" She shouted.

He looked as if he were to strike the filthy house elf.

The elf straightened up, eyeing them all vindictively and hissed: "…Mudblood."

"I'm going to ..." Ron exclaimed furiously.

"No Ron! Kreacher stop that, it's not helping anyone." She requested.

Kreacher's pale eyes widened. "The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher." He put his hands over his bat- like ears trying to block out Hermione's voice.

Hermione winced again.

'Don't call her a -' Ron began, but was cut off by Hermione.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione whispered.

Kreacher left the room, muttering curses at them all. But Hermione didn't care, she just felt glad that he was finally gone.

"I'd best be off. Mum wants me to help her take out the rubbish," Ron said with a yawn getting to his feet.

"Yeah, night Ron."

As Ron left, Kreacher came back into the room, approaching her.

"Er- yes Kreacher?" Hermione inquired.

"The Weasley tomato woman says to tell you that she requires you assistance now." He said looking to the floor. "Cleaning the cabinet."

"Thank you Kreacher," Hermione said politely. She walked up the stairs, passing the frightening stuffed elf-heads. She walked into the drawing room. The room was completely dark except for a patch of moonlight illuminating the cabinet.

"_Lumos_," Hermione said softly and her wand lit the way as she walked to the cabinet and opened it.

She stepped back, dropping her wand.

"_Granger_?" it asked her, looking very surprised as it saw her.

"Avada Kedavra!" a chilling voice rang out and before Hermione's eyes there was a sickening green flash and sprawled on the dusty old carpet in a patch of moonlight, dead, was Draco.

Hermione's breath caught in her lungs as she stared in horror. There was a scream which she couldn't vocalize and the air was like ice.

It couldn't be real!

She sank to the ground, clutching blindly for her wand, her vision blurred as she could not take her gaze off Draco's body. Her teeth chattered as her hands closed clumsily around the wand. She was conscious that her whole body was shuddering in shock.

"It's a... Boggart," she told herself trying to form the words that would allow her to banish the Boggart.

There was another flash and Draco was lying on the ground, pale, frightened his hand reaching out to her.

"Granger..." he pleaded.

"Avada Kedavra!" that hideous voice declared. Again the green flash and again, Draco lay dead before her as she stared at him helplessly.

She _knew_ that the charm to repel a Boggart was simple. Strength of mind was needed ... laughter ... she had to force it to assume a shape that she found amusing but all that she could find in her mind was grief, guilt and fear.

'R - r -!' she gasped, pointing her shaking wand at Draco's body.

_Crack._

He was standing there looking at her. Like a beautiful fallen angle.

But his silver eyes hardened into a dark grey, scolding her.

"Granger ... you could have saved me..."

"Avada Kedavra!" Again he lay dead before her as she reached out to try to touch his face but ended up touching air. Tears were threatening to fall from her eyes.

_Crack._

She watched in horror. He was going to die again.

"Draco- take my hand, take it NOW! "She called to him. "... Draco! Please take it" she begged him in a harsh voice. "_Please_ - before it's too late!"

He glanced at her.

"Avada Kedavra!"

His lifeless body slumped before her on the ground. Pale and still.

'No!' No! Please...! Riddikulus! Riddikulus!" She pleaded, falling forward onto the ground, cursing herself for allowing the Boggart to get the better of her.

She hadn't lost hold of her wand and she could feel her S.P.E.W. badge pressing into her chest as she lay face down on the ground.

She heard herself teasing him about being transfigured into a ferret.

_Draco Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret_

Draco's laugh. She missed his laugh so much ...

Suddenly her thoughts gathered and with a final gasp, she seized her wand.

_Chin up, love. Don't let anyone stand in your way Granger, not even me. _

"Riddikulus!" she said very firmly and clearly before falling onto the carpet, letting go of her wand and crying helplessly.

_Crack!_

The Boggart turned into a small bouncing ferret for one second, exploded and burst into a thousand tiny wisps of smoke, and was gone.

Hermione slumped on the dusty carpet. She hadn't forgotten him. No, clearly not yet. It would take longer ... The sound of her sobs were harsh and broken.

Standing in a dark corner of the room, Kreacher's saucer-like eyes gleamed in delight as he watched in fascination.

The Mudblood had dared to love a pure blood.

"Master will be happy with Kreacher," Kreacher murmured to himself, his eyes gleaming with joy. "Oh yes, Kreacher will be rewarded greatly." He said mischievously.

* * *

**A.N:** _Just a random idea.. Idk if I should continue it.. what do you guys think?_


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